Where Sleeping Monsters Lie
by SergeantPixie
Summary: She proclaimed herself monster so that is what she became. post season six finale


**AN: So obviously I have a lot of anger about the way they chose to handle Nina's exit from the show, and while I was trying to write a fix-it, I found myself blocked. I needed something to let my anger out on before I could continue on with that story, and thus this was born. I haven't actually seen the episode, and I doubt I ever will, so this is built mostly from gifs and and summaries I've seen online. Enjoy.**

 **Where Sleeping Monsters Lie**

Elena goes to sleep, Bonnie lives, and they will never be together again. It is nothing like the fairytales. Nothing like the sweet lies her mother told her as a child. The truth is much worse. The truth is, she is not a sleeping princess waiting for her prince to wake her with true love's kiss. True love is letting Bonnie live while she sleeps her life away.

If the so-called prince dares to wake her, Bonnie will be lost, and Elena will not have that. She will gladly give up life with the ones she loves for Bonnie. She'd give it all to Bonnie if she could, but even everything wouldn't be enough. She will never be capable of giving Bonnie what the other girl has given her. The sacrifices that Bonnie has made for her cannot be repaid, too many and too painful for repayment. In the end, sleeping while Bonnie gets to keep her life will be never be enough, but if it is all she can do, Elena will give it gladly.

She sleeps, but not like before. They put her in a box in a dark corner and she feels every agonizing hour that drags by, alone in her coffin. No one comes to visit her so she passes the time with fairytales. She tells herself the stories again and again; creating the sumptuous gowns and the beautiful castles, wandering the halls even as a booming narrator tells the stories every child has grown up with.

" _Once upon a time…_ " it always starts, and Elena grows to hate the phrase. She has nothing but time, here in her slumbering world. She creates her puppets and they act out the stories again and again. She watches Sleeping Beauty awaken from her true love's kiss hundreds of thousands of times until it dances behind her eyelids. Snow White bites the apple again and again and again until she prays she'll choke on it and die, not sleep.

She grows to hate the fairytales, warps them to tell her story. Sleeping Beauty pricks her finger willingly, so that the evil wizard won't harm her beloved friend. Sleeping Beauty sleeps until a misguided prince awakens her and then the story begins again, so that she might never realize that her friend is doomed.

Snow White bites the apple to give her childhood companion a chance to live, damsels in distress become heroes. As she dreams she tells the stories again and again until they are bitter on her tongue and the castles are falling apart at the seams.

No matter how many times she tells them, they cannot erase the truth. Her time in this coffin has warped her. She still remembers the taste of blood in her mouth and while she might be human again, she finds that blood still appeals to her. She dreams of Kai's throat collapsing between her teeth so many times she begins to believe it to be true.

At first, she tries to fight it, thinking of the loved ones she is separate from, but that only spurs on the darkness—the anger.

She is not a sleeping princess, she is a sleeping monster, and nothing good comes from awakening a sleeping monster.

She dreams and she dreams, and in her dreams she becomes something inhuman. Not a vampire, but not a girl. She becomes something of the dark, of shadows and blood, of fire and water.

In her dreams she is not a girl, she is a monster.

Then one day, she awakens. She doesn't know the day or the year, only that the sun is streaming down on her face, her dress is in tatters, and Damon hovers over her, his face worshipful. There is no reprieve, she has not forgotten the years she slept and dreamt, instead she remembers them in the sharpest detail.

Her sleep has ended, yet all she can think is that if she is awake then Bonnie is dead, and she will never celebrate that.

"Elena," he breathes reverently. Once she might have smiled and melted into his embrace. Now, quick as lightning, she grabs the collar of his shirt, yanking his bare throat down to her aching teeth. They're blunt and he is stronger than her, but anger turns her jaw to steel and he is caught off guard. His blood is a balm to her sandpaper throat, and she drinks deeply. Before he can think to push her off, she raises her arm to cradle his head, quickly breaking his neck.

She pushes his body to the floor and climbs out of her cage, her dress threadbare and now bloodstained. She showers and finds clean clothes quickly, knowing that she will only have so long before he is revived. She needs to be gone before then.

By the time he finds her, the sun is setting, painting her gold and red. She looks beautiful, untouchable, even as the smell of blood coming from her overwhelms his senses. She stands in the graveyard, staring down at her brother's tombstone.

"Elena," he begins, cautious this time, but she cuts him off.

"Twenty-six," she says, her voice strangely devoid of emotion. "He was twenty-six. I thought he'd live longer than that." There is no pain in her voice, only curious detachment. Now that he is at her side he can see that she is covered in blood. It's not his blood, and he swallows. He's not sure if he wants to know who's blood it is.

"Elena, I'm sorr—" he tries, but she cuts him off again.

"What happened?" she asks, looking at him at last. There is no kindness in her eyes, or pain. She is simply curious. Patiently, she waits for his answer.

"It was a vampire," he answers reluctantly, and she nods succinctly, looking back down at her brother's grave.

"Did they suffer?" she enquires, her voice sharp with intent. For a moment he is confused, until he realizes that she isn't asking about her brother, but the vampire that killed him.

"I prevented any hunter's from starting their marks for as long as I could," he replies. Her lips curve up into a semblance of a smile, and while it is not the blindingly beautiful smile he remembers from before, it is clear that she is pleased.

"Where's Bonnie?" she asks, still not looking at him. It makes him feel small and unsure, the way she's treating him. It's like he doesn't matter to her at all. Still, he answers her questions.

"She hasn't been buried yet," he replies. She nods. The blood is half-dried and with every movement it falls away from her skin in flakes. He's afraid to ask whom she killed.

"Where will she be buried?" she murmurs, studying the detailing on her brother's tombstone with detached calm. The grass has grown over his burial site, it looks plush and inviting. For a fleeting moment, she imagines lying down amongst the wildflowers and weeds. She'd slept for decades; it couldn't take much longer for the grass to grow up around her and through her until she was buried in the earth with her brother.

"With her husband," he says. Her mouth curves up into a close-lipped smile at that.

"Did they have children?" she asks, her voice full of wistful longing, the first emotion she's displayed besides distant curiosity and that terrifying anger that opened his throat with blunt teeth.

"Yeah, lots of 'em," he tells her. She smiles widely, and it is like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. Even with blood smeared on her face and coating her fingers, she is beautiful.

"Good," she says. She looks at him again. He finds his courage.

"Who's blood, Elena?" he asks. She gives him another smile, and this one is pure Katherine, pure darkness.

"Kai," she replies, flashing teeth stained pink with the blood of the warlock who cursed her. There is naked delight in her eyes; she is all teeth and no kindness. She relishes in the memory of his bones between her hands as she ripped them from his body. He'd still looked young, the magic he practiced kept him youthful, but it couldn't save him from her. She is no longer a vampire, it's true—she's a new kind of monster. Built from solitude and her years dreaming away her life whilst locked in a box. She hadn't needed any magic to rip him apart, her anger was enough. It's warped her until she is more than human in strength yet less than human in kindness.

Damon can only stare, but something like fear roots in his chest.

"What year is it?" she asks him, turning to look back at her brother's grave.

"2083," he tells her, unsure of what else to do but answer her questions. She's not how he remembers.

"That's a good life," she says with a smile. It seems all of her smiles are for Bonnie. She looks at him. "You can go now," she says, leaving no room for argument. He leaves her there at her brother's grave. When he is gone, she seeks out Alaric's and Matt's. She doesn't find Tyler's, and she prays that it means he is far away from this cursed place.

Caroline comes when the sun is set completely, the world a watercolor haze—all soft blues, hazy grays, and dreamy greens. Elena is back at Jeremy's grave, staring at the tiny dash that represents the entirety of his existence. Caroline stops a couple feet behind her and stares at her, bloodied and beautiful.

"Elena," she says gently, and Elena turns to look at her willingly. The blonde is unchanged, still achingly beautiful. Elena gives her a real smile, rich with sorrow and weariness.

"Caroline," she says. In a flash the blonde is in front of her, taking her into her arms, blood and all, and she is home.

 **AN: Uh yeah, review if you want.**

 **xoxo**

 **-Pixie**


End file.
